


Time Lifts Burdens, Time Creates Scars

by enenrayokai



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: CIA, Gen, Spencer Reid Centric, Team as Family, team fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-08-08 19:55:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7771051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enenrayokai/pseuds/enenrayokai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The BAU team is a family, and being a part of a family means it's not just about one person.  A family means support, a family means connection, and a family means no secrets.  When a case lands in their own backyard and involves cooperation with the CIA secrets will be revealed.  The question on everyone's mind, "Who is Dr. Spencer Reid?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Mask Becomes the Man

She is young, young enough to hold an innocence lost in adulthood. She's no older than twenty-five. Her pale features contrast with the soil beneath her and her hair tangles seamlessly with the grass below. Her eyes are closed and her head is tilted ever so slightly to the right.

Light rays of sunshine engulf her into the light of a brand new day. Her form will stay there until a stranger discovers her.

A few hours after a stranger finds a dead girl, a phone in an office building a few miles away comes to life. It's the phone of one Jennifer Jareau.

The BAU has gotten another case.

JJ calls the case to Hotch's attention and with a swift nod of his head he goes to gather the others.

"We've got one," Hotch relays. The few words spur a commotion of motion among the agents as they all gather in the briefing room. Once there, Garcia stands stiffly near the screen, eyes forlorn.

Her outfit is colorful, mixing splashes of pink and orange in a wide array of swirls and squiggles. Her hair is pulled back with a headband that is topped with a pink ruffle. When everyone files into the room, Hotch gives a stiff nod for Garcia to begin.

"Kate Evergreen was found early this morning by a man walking his dog, a one Jack Grendel. She's one of the CIA's top agents and that agency has asked us to kindly aid in their investigation for reasons unknown."

"Reasons unknown," Rossi questions skeptically. His head turns toward Hotch in silent question. Hotch merely bows his head slightly.

"We've been given orders to aid in the investigation, Strauss is adamant that we cooperate." Hotch remarks.

"Good interagency cooperation bullshit," Rossi breaths out. A stern look from Hotch quiets Rossi's continued remarks and Garcia gives a questioning look asking if she may continue. Hotch nods.

"She was twenty-three, found in a park a few miles away. She was immaculate in appearance, the man who found her originally thought she was sleeping. He only became concerned when she failed to move when his dog approached her assertively."

"Only twenty-three and already well ranked in the CIA, impressive," Morgan says.

Reid cocks his head and recites, "Actually, the CIA is known to hire agents at young ages. Most agencies do that, makes it easier for them to mold the operative into what they want them to be."

Prentiss reads through the information given to her on the iPad and asks, "What makes them think this is a serial case, enough to involve us?"

"Are we sure it's not an isolated event, or some internal affairs playing out?" JJ adds.

Garcia dips her head in understanding and replies, "She is one of a group of five highly ranked operatives not including the leader whose name is not mentioned. Out of the six, including the supervisor, she is the third to be killed. The CIA is concerned for the safety of the remaining two members and is hoping to stop the unsub before further disruption of the other two's lives."

"Is the leader of the five operatives not at risk?" JJ questions.

"We've been told that he is no longer affiliated with the CIA and when the group disbanded he was let go from the CIA's list. We've been told specifically that unless vital to the case, this leader is to be left alone." Hotch informs objectively.

"It says here," Morgan points to the page he's reading, "that the other two members of this elite team are no longer with the CIA. Do we think they could be behind this? I know we aren't supposed to be looking into this leader guy, but are we sure he's not the unsub?"

"I think we should find the two members still alive and speak with them. Better safe than sorry." JJ offers.

"Agreed, but we are under strict orders to leave out the head of the group." Hotch reminds firmly, shooting a look at Morgan.

"I am just saying, it's a bit suspicious that this ominous leader is specifically left out of the investigation. Why are they so sure it's not him?" Morgan counters.

Playing the devil's advocate, Rossi inquires, "Hotch, you have to admit it is strange." His head is tilted to the left and his eyes are questioning. Rossi, despite understanding the right to privacy, does not trust the CIA enough to take their word. Especially when it comes to their investigation.

Reid's posture is ridged with unease and tension. His shoulders are taught and his eyes are digging into the paper file before him. The papers shimmer slightly under his shaking grasp. Barely contained emotions are kept in careful check.

"We can cross one name off the suspect list," Reid practically whispers.

"You know something we don't pretty boy?"

"Um, well no," Reid stumbles over his words with genuine discomfort, "well yes, but--"

"Spit it out Reid," Hotch calls.

Reid bows his head in resignation and his voice in barely audible to the people around him. "It's me."

"What's you Spence?" JJ responds softly. Her eyes linger on Reid and her face is set in concern.

"The leader of the unit, it um," he pauses, "it's me." He shuffles uncomfortably in is seat and abruptly stands. The entire group is in varying stages of shock and confusion while Reid frantically leaves the room. Not even him knows where he's walking to, he's just walking.

He needs to be anywhere but there, with them.


	2. Show Me Your Soul and I Will Tell You the Kind of Man You Are

His hair is hanging loosely around his face, causing his expression to be shielded from those around him. If anyone looks close enough, they would see the pained look that is capturing his features. Spencer Reid is afraid, afraid for the future, afraid for the chance of rejection, just plain afraid.

He knows he shouldn't have left the way he did, but the room seemed to be suffocating him. The air had become oppressive and his mind had- without his full or conscious consent- surged his body into motion.

He still isn't sure where he's going. He's just walking.

His pace is steady and uncertain and with each step he finds himself getting further and further away from an unknown enemy. After a few minutes he realizes he should probably head back to the office before he's fired.

He might not want to face his teammates, but he knows he can't run forever; he's tried. The walk back seems shorter, and before he can mentally prepare himself for the inevitable onslaught of questions he pushes the doors open and steps inside.

The seal of air is broken and a rush of cool air brushes against Reid's face. He's ready.

The elevator ride is simple and slow. It's times like this he wishes the elevator had some sort of music, anything would be better than being in his head.

Inside the room, quiet conversations can be heard. If one listens close enough they will hear a group of people discussing the brutal murders of multiple people, but Reid isn't just anyone. He's a skilled profiler and a certified genius.

With each step closer the words reverberating within the room become crisper and clearer; but it's not just the words he's listening to. He hears the way the tones imply uncertainty, he hears the way the pace of words reveals confusion, and worst of all he hears the way the inflections show a sense of betrayal.

He, in a sense, has indeed betrayed them. His family, his lifeline; and honestly, he didn't even realize it.

As he enters the briefing room all eyes seem to find his. Some glances are lingering while others are brief and formal. Out of awkwardness, Reid bows his head and shuffles nervously to his seat.

JJ leans forward slightly and says, "I am not mad, just confused. Scared too." Her face is soft and her features invoke a sense of ease. A smile tugs gently at the corners of her mouth and her eyes sparkle with truth.

Reid nods his head slowly and brings his attention back to Hotch.

"Like I was saying, our priority should be catching the unsub, leave the protection details to the CIA, after all, it is their people in danger." The last few words sends a shiver down Reid's spine. It seems as if in one moment he has been banished back to where he has started. Alone.

Hotch continues adamantly, in hope for a sense of normalcy. Unfortunately, the mood of the room has shifted and it's hardly going to be pushed back to normal because one man can stay objective.

"Why didn't you tell us, we're your family. Aren't we?" Morgan's emotions are finally bubbling to the surface. He no longer can keep quiet, his curiosity and anger is clouding his judgement and surging his outburst. 

In reply Reid merely brings his glance downward, practically submissive to the anger.

"Derek," Hotch warns. It's not enough. Morgan isn't upset, he's angry. His voice grows in volume and his shoulders are taught with barely contained emotions.

"No Hotch," he bellows, "I have a right to know what the hell has been going on. You've been lying." He knows he's being irrational, and he knows he should get the whole story first, but none of those thoughts stop him.

He's feeling hurt, and he's lashing out.

"Derek, relax I am sure--" JJ is cut off effortlessly by Reid.

"No, he's right. I have lied. I've been lying," he corrects," but not with malice intent. The CIA was a long time ago, and I left for a reason. When I finally got out, I was so happy to have said goodbye to the CIA for good I ran and never looked back. I guess this whole time I've been trying to pretend it never happened, that I had made it all up. Funny, I am so scared of being crazy, but this whole time I am hoping I am delusional enough that my time with the CIA is a figment of my imagination," he adds in off handedly.

Rossi nods in empathy and catches Reid's attention for a brief moment. He gives a slight nod of his head in comfort. Just like most cases, Rossi is the man of few words and neutral opinions. He's the mediator, he's the level headed one.

Prentiss chimes in stating, "Honestly, all I want to know is why." Her tone is casual but her inflection is anything but. The room again quiets for an answer and Reid pauses a moment to think.

"It was a long time ago," Reid starts, "and I wanted it to stay in the past. I am not that person anymore." His voice is level and indifferent. His body language reeks of resignation.

Indeed, he is a different person; but who is that person?

Garcia stands idly by the projector and her stance makes it seem like she is seconds away from throwing herself onto Reid. When no more words are spoken- all occupants of the room deep in though- she does just that. 

Her movements are a flurry of pink and orange and her arms wrap aggressively around Reid.

"My poor boy wonder," she exclaims. Her bubbly personality shines through her actions and becomes a reason for the tension in the room to dissipate.

"Alright everyone, we've got a job to do." Hotch calls. He gracefully brings the group back into one conversation and puts the Reid interrogation on hold for the time being. Taking charge, he delegates duties and dismisses the group.

They have an unsub to catch.


	3. Maybe I Forgive You, and Maybe I am Angry

The CIA has its hands full. Among covert opts, undercover agents, and the general commotion of a large agency; they also have to deal with a killer picking off some of their agents. It's going to be a long couple of days.

The first to be killed was Janson Rodgers, and the higher ups in the CIA were sure it was an isolated event. Rodgers was an active member, and being active led to inevitable dangers that could hardly be avoided. It's common, being in the CIA means greater risk.

People die, it just happens that people in the CIA happen to die sooner.

"Yes, I was hoping to speak with an agent Aaron Hotchner of the Behavioral Analysis Unit? Yes, I'll hold." Robert Thomas- the head of the CIA- waits impatiently for his call to be forwarded. His brow is knitted in concern and light flakes of grey hide among his dark hair.

The years were not kind to him. His shoulders are stiff and his posture is ridged from being overworked. It's been years since anything like this has happened. Weariness is evident in his features.

When it became clear the killings were linked to the old operation Mercury One, he had quickly called upon the BAU. They need all the help they can muster, when the group disbanded it had not been on good terms.

"This is Hotchner," Hotch says briefly.

"This is Robert Thomas with the CIA, I was hoping to discuss a joint investigation with your people. To save you the trouble of seeking out the two living members we are sending them to you in order to aid your case." His voice is stern. 

Hotch thinks a moment before replying, "I thought they no longer worked for your agency?"

"Unfortunately that is what we had to put in their files. They are both active members of the CIA, but their affiliation with us is limited to a need to know basis." His tone is authoritative and powerful. He knows what he wants to say and he knows how to get it across.

Hotch ponders the thought of so much of their case being need to know, and offers cooly, "We will accommodate them however we can." Hotch pauses a moment longer and adds in, "Just know, that if at any point they hinder our investigation we will take action." His words carry eloquently and on the other end of the conversation Thomas nods thoughtfully.

"Understood," is his only response.

The call is ended and Hotch walks briskly to the briefing room where his team is gathered. The room is lit brightly and all of the team sits sporadically about the area. Morgan is sitting furthest from the door with his back against the wall, his arms folded in front of him.

JJ and Prentiss are sitting closely in two chairs at the table discussing different aspects of the case while Rossi sits a few feet from them in another chair listening quietly. In the corner adjacent to Morgan, is where Reid sits.

His knees are brought up defensively and his arms are wrapped around his lithe frame protectively.

"We're expecting two agents to join us from the CIA, play nice." Hotch levels a pointed glance at Morgan and Prentiss and they both roll their eyes in acknowledgement. "There're only here to help."

"Do we know these agents?" Rossi's voice is impartial.

"Apparently the two living members of Mercury One are still with the agency. Their involvement is--"

Morgan cuts Hotch off snorting, "Need to know."

"Exactly," Hotch retorts.

"Right well, they will be arriving in a few hours. With that said where are we at with the case? Reid, you and Garcia were doing background of Mercury One, what do you got?"

Reid's head lifts gracefully and he drops his feet to the floor. His mind spins with information and he shakes his head diligently to clear his thoughts.

"Um, well." Reid begins unsteady but builds in certainty as he goes. "Mercury One was an elite group of CIA operatives who had been brought into the agency at a young age. The hope was that by bringing in the kids young, they could make them into the perfect operatives. That technique had worked once before."

"How do you mean, it worked once before?" JJ's voice is smooth and even.

Reid merely tilts his head and states, "Four years before the Mercury One project, a man named Jed Fisher was recruited. He was fifteen at the time. His reasons for joining so young closely mirrored a lot of Mercury One's reasons. He was struggling to pay bills and needed the money. Robert Thomas had approached him and offered a job with good pay, he had jumped at the opportunity."

Reid smiled at the thought. Robert had been kind to him when he had asked him to join the CIA.

"By the time he was nineteen he was perfectly molded into the ideal CIA candidate. It was around then that they started the Mercury One project. Like me there were five other operatives working in the CIA that had also been hired young and molded. The Mercury One project was just the agency's way of bringing all of us together into one cohesive unit. We all had been trained in an area deemed necessary to be an excellent agent."

Reid paused cautiously, "Imagine a unit of people who each contained a different wide skill base in one of the major skill areas for a CIA operative. It was to be the perfect group, the ideal co-op."

Morgan snorts in indignation.

Brought out of his rant, Reid says flatly, "Anyway, the Mercury One project was given the job of infiltrating the Italian mafia. Apparently the Italian mafia was known for its wide knowledge in foreign affairs, they do a lot of business with foreign nations- friends and foes alike."

"Okay, so how does that influence the case?" Prentiss' question sits in the air a few moments.

"Could the Italian mafia be behind the killings?" Rossi infers. Everyone thinks about the possibilities briefly.

"My guess, yes an no." Reid's voice breaks the silence. Everyone's gaze meets his. Hotch's frame is open but defensive, his head cocked slightly to the left.

"Do they have reason to want us dead, probably, but there're a smart bunch. I don't think they would be this sloppy."

Morgan pushes aside his feelings towards Reid and looks to the group. "Do we know where this Jed Fisher guy is," Morgan states. Everyone seems to turn their gaze to their resident genius.

"No, he dropped off the grid long ago. He was supposed to join Mercury One, but he had a falling out with the CIA." Reid's voice penetrates the silence.

"Alright, Reid and Rossi, run down the mafia angle. JJ and Morgan speak with the CIA agents when they arrive. Prentiss you're with me, we're going to do some digging into the victims."

As the mood of the room eases into something more casual Morgan calls, "Reid, why didn't you tell us?" Morgan stands abruptly and walks steadily near Reid.

"Honestly, it wasn't a part of me I wanted to remember."

"Pretty boy," Morgan replies, "I just, I just can't. I know you had a right to keep it from us; but, I just can't help but question if I know you. I've met CIA agents and they are not like other people. The CIA trains them with an iron fist- no mistakes."

All the other people in the room seem transfixed with Morgan's words. Unlike him, neither of the other agents had worked much with the CIA. The fact Morgan had met a few operatives fueled his feelings of betrayal. The CIA employees he knows is not anything like the Reid he knows.

Reid understands exactly what Morgan is meaning That had been one of the many reasons why he left.

Before anyone can move to their respective jobs and before Reid can answer Morgan, a man walks into the room. His hair is dark brown and his eyes are a stark green. His face is composed of multiple angular planes that make his features shadowed.

Everyone's eyes rise to meet the new figure and before any can make a move a shot rings out, echoing in the heads of the entire team.


	4. I Gave You My Respect and You Misplaced My Trust

"Come home."

The words vibrate throughout the room, they had been the only words spoken before the brunette and green eyed man had pointed the gun to his head and taken the fateful shot. His limp form is spread upon the floor and brain matter lay strewn about the entry way and framing walls. Blood pools fluidly onto the floor coating it red.

Each member of the BAU recovers flawlessly and Hotch immediately spins into motion. JJ finds herself maneuvering out of the room to call for help, while Morgan dials 911. Rossi is approaching the body and giving calculating glances in hope to find the man's motive. Prentiss stands further away from the man, watching Reid carefully.

It had not gotten past Prentiss that the man had mumbled the words directly to Reid. Her eyes are watching her coworker studiously as the scene quickly unfolds.

Reid shifts uncomfortably and his eyes are watering slightly. His left hand has come up to meet his mouth and it seems as if he is fighting to keep his stomach at ease. Before he can collect himself, he empties the contents of his stomach into the waste bin behind him.

He's shaking. His whole frame is shaking. Prentiss approaches him cautiously and lays a hand upon his shoulder, he flitches almost instantaneously. His gaze flicks up in brief unsteadiness but settles when his mind recognizes Prentiss.

She leans forward slightly and whispers, "Are you okay?" The question lingers in the air a few moments and before she can urge Reid into speaking, another voice breaks the silence.

"Spencer." The single word is loud and holds an aura of power and strength. The tone is level and sturdy. As soon as the words leave the man's mouth his eyes lock onto Reid's. Before anyone can call the stranger into question Reid stumbles forward, landing hesitantly at the new intruder's form. Before everyone's eyes this stranger wraps his arms protectively around Reid.

The man hugging Reid is taller by an inch or two and holds himself taught. His posture is impeccable and his face is stern. Tears fall silently and his eyes glimmer. His hair is dark brown and is styled well. Reid seemingly melts into the man's embrace. His arms attach themselves willingly and his body is flushed against the older man's.

As quickly as the moment is happening a voice brings everyone back to reality, "Hey there Spencer. It's been a while." The words come from a man standing a few feet from the two embracing men. He is leaning carelessly on a wall and a smirk plays on his lips.

Reid lifts his head and detaches himself slowly. A smile appears. He swiftly side steps away from the man he is hugging and falls before the other guy.

"Daniel, it's good to see you." They hug, but only briefly.

The rest of the BAU seems mesmerized by the scene before them. Each of their gazes seems to bore into both of the newcomers.

"You ain't gonna hug me like you did Mike?" Daniel's tone is playful. For his comment, he receives a hit to the arm. Just like old times, he feigns hurt and mopes for a few moments before the other newcomer, Mike, shuts him up.

"You two must be the two agents from the CIA who were a part of the Mercury One team." Hotch states confidently.

"Yes sir," they reply in sync. Hotch merely nods in acknowledgement and introduces the rest of the unit. Reid stands off to the side timidly. Although, despite his demeanor being hesitant his body language is carrying something different. He seems older, more experienced. He seems more comfortable with himself. It's subtle, but there.

As if scheduled, both Daniel and Mike cast their gaze toward the dead man. In an instant their emotions plummet. Their eyes become forlorn, there're bodies reeking of weariness.

"That's Anthony Carmen, he was the son of Don Carmen. Don Carmen being the leader of the Italian mafia." Mike's voice in monotone, his eyes fixed on Reid. Every word seems the shake the younger man. "Spencer here was really close with Anthony. Real good friends."

The atmosphere seems to soften. The room is quiet. Time seems to bend. "We actually came here with some more information for this case. We have reason to believe that the Italian mafia is behind the killings. This incident only proves it."

"How do you mean?" Morgan questions firmly. The fit man broadens his stance and crosses his arms defensively. He is the perfect picture of defensive.

In response Daniel says," We have reason to believe Don Carmen is looking to convince Spencer to go back."

Before he can finish speaking Rossi inquires, "Go back?" Reid tilts his head, lifting his chin up slightly.

"You guys remember when I mentioned each of us had a specific skill that was deemed necessary for an operative." Everyone nods diligently. "Mine was undercover work." His statement causes Morgan's fist to ball up and JJ's eyes to widen. The mood in the room grows tense with unease.

"I might have been team leader, but we worked as equals, that's why we worked so well."

"I was placed undercover in the Italian mafia, an undercover agent that would hopefully gain vital information. The rest of my team acted as support. A few of them also met with members of the mafia but I was the one who went deep. After the first few months I was basically family. Don Carmen had even called me his son once." Reid smiles ruefully.

His brown eyes fall fluently to the dead man, "Anthony, Tonio," Reid practically whispers the nickname, "we were close. He was the first person who listened to me, made me feel wanted." Reid spares a look at Daniel and Mike. "He had given me something I had always wanted, a family, a place to belong."

As the conversation continued, everyone was ushered out of the room by forensics personnel. They had a scene to clean up after all.

Once in the bullpen, Hotch asks, "Okay, so why would he come here and kill himself?"

"To send a message?" Morgan guesses.

"It's like he's trying to guilt Reid into going back to the mafia through his death. If Daniel and Mike are correct, the reason for the suicide could ultimately be about Reid." Prentiss states, playing off what the CIA agents had previously mentioned.

"Maybe this whole suicide wasn't even Anthony's idea. He was a good man no doubt, but loyal to his father to a fault. He was good at taking orders and trusted his old man's word like the holy grail."

JJ thinks a moment before saying, "Going in that direction, maybe Don Carmen ordered his son to come here and do this? It's like Don Carmen is saying that Reid is the only heir to the title now, since his only biological son is dead. I mean, Reid said this guy Don Carmen once thought of Reid as a son, maybe this is his way of saying Reid is the only son he needs?"

Reid stiffens. His body is tight with tension. "He wouldn't." He defends poorly. His entire being seems wound up ready to explode. It will be any moment until he completely falls apart.

"We should look into Don Carmen. Check out his motives. Prentiss and Rossi, bring him in."

Rossi interrupts Hotch questioningly, "On what crime are we bringing this man in for?"

Hotch shrugs, "Tell him his son is dead and we need him to come in to identify the body. Then, take him to interrogation. Ambush him so to speak. We need to speak with that man."

Hotch shifts his sight to JJ, "JJ find Garcia and fill her in, then the both of you can go digging into other cases Mercury One was involved with that wasn't the mafia case but could have left some angry people. Morgan brief Daniel and Mike and see if they have any insights that may help."

"Morgan guides Daniel and Mike with ease into one of the hallways that leads to an interrogation room.

"Reid help Morgan."

"What will you do?" Rossi's tone is riddled with undertones.

"Work Dave." The phrase is clipped. "I'll be looking into Jed Fisher."

As everyone files out to do their respective duties another pair of eyes watches their every move.


	5. I Know What it Means to Lie, Do You?

The sun is falling to the west and streaks of color are vibrant in the beaming sky. The night seems peaceful, quiet. Darkness is slowly captivating the world. Spencer Reid sits silently in the darkness. His form is a mere shadow to onlookers. It seems as if his entire being has melded into nothingness.

Perhaps it has, perhaps it will.

Tears stream feverishly down his pale features, but no one can truly see them. It's after a few minutes of sitting outside that a man approaches Reid. His form is graceful and his slim limbs carry his body with an ease unfamiliar to the young profiler, but there's something off about the man. 

"Sir," The man pauses, "are you Spencer?" Spencer's head whips up and he stumbles to his feet, clearly caught off guard.

"Yes." Is his puzzled reply.

"I have a letter for you." The stranger lifts his left hand. In it he holds a crisp, white envelope. It seems so thin that it is hard to believe anything would be inside. One edge of the envelope is slightly wrinkled due to the man's vise like grasp and Reid can see the man's hand shaking. Reid gingerly takes the letter his face contorts in confusion.

The man in front of him is scared. Scared with every fiber of his being.

"Is everything alright sir?" Reid questions. His long legs take a step forward toward the individual and the stranger promptly turns around and runs. Before the agent can do anything to stop the man from leaving he's already long gone. Reduced to a mere shadowy figure in the distance.

It's in that very moment that Reid realizes his hands are shaking. Nerves are moving his hands eagerly and without his knowledge.

The crinkle of paper resounds in the night air. Only an hour ago Reid had seen Don Carmon. It had been a shock to his system.

Spencer diligently unpacks the envelope and unfolds the white, printer paper. Inside he finds a handwritten letter among other contents.

Dear Spencer,

It's been a while. It's time for you to come home. I thought getting rid of the team that took you away from the family would be enough; but now I see they are not the only ones in the way of you coming home. Come home Spencer, or the BAU will find the same fate as Mercury One.

The paper is riddled with ripples as the young genius grips the paper vigorously. His mind is spinning and his body is swaying slightly from side to side. Without any forethought, he lets the letter slip form his finger tips and he treks forward.

The night is dark, the street in which Spencer walks is dimly lit by dying street lamps. The young man walks with his shoulders hunched in defeat and his strides are slow but steady. Locks of hair fall haphazardly about his face and shield his eyes.

It seems to outsiders, that this man is wandering aimlessly through the night, but Spencer Reid knows exactly where he's going. The FBI building is getting smaller and smaller as he continues to walk forward. Each step taking him away from the known and toward the unknown.

It was time he went home.

\------------------------------------------

Despite the late hour, the entire BAU team, sans Reid, is working diligently. The darkness outside gives contrast with the gleaming, artificial light that brightens their work space.

The interrogation had gotten them nowhere. Don Carmen is a smart man. He knows how to play the game, and he plays well. He immediately called for a lawyer and had hardly said a word. After a couple hours, they had been obligated to release him. Prentiss is still pissed about it.

Rossi is even slightly ruffled. His face shows years of weariness and his posture is slightly slumped. The years have not been kind. The interrogation was brutal. Prentiss and Rossi had spent a few hours being lectured on who Spencer Reid really is.

Despite feeling as if they knew their resident genius, it is still disheartening to hear someone else know someone they cared about so seemingly well. It's eerie.

It is as if Don Carmen spoke of a distant Spencer that they could have once known had they met him earlier.

The talk with Don Carmen made it very real that that man had truly known Spencer, at least for a little while. Hard to say if he still knows Spencer. Dissonance radiated throughout the group, all questioning if both parties could be right about who Spencer Reid truly is.

Hotch spares a glance around the room and his eyes fall onto Morgan. He lifts his gaze and questions, "Where's Reid?"

"Said he needed some space. Went outside to get some air." Morgan's voice is seething with anger. He had been one of the first to know about the interrogation, since he had been with Reid at the time.

Morgan's stance is aggressive and authoritative. At any moment his fist might make direct contact with a wall. He knows his anger won't help him, but the rage inside of him is something unable to be contained.

His anger, though seemingly all encompassing, stems from a place of fear. Morgan is scared, scared for his friend, and scared for his family. He only hopes Reid doesn't misplace his anger. The last thing Morgan wants is to be the one to add more stress onto Reid's shoulders.

Morgan and Reid had finished speaking with Mike and Daniel and had reluctantly gone to watch the questioning. Morgan thought Reid would be able to give some insights, he had been wrong.

Reid, throughout the entire interrogation had remained silent and still. His whole body ridged, as if a pole had held the man's body in place and strings had held his body taught.

Morgan receives a head nod in acknowledgment and Hotch continues.

"What have we got?" His tone is smooth, but carries an edge that can only be interpreted as forceful. Every word pronounced with what seems to be great care.

With every passing moment, unknown to the BAU team, Spencer becomes further and further away. Time ticks slowly, endlessly.

"Basically the same thing we started with Hotch." Morgan's tone carries fluidly through the room leaving behind a faint disruption of the silence.

"It seems we can safely say this whole thing in about getting Reid to go back to the mafia. Don Carmen might not have said it directly, but he is definitely involved." Prentiss states. All eyes shift toward her form and she stands abruptly from her seat suddenly antsy.

"Maybe we should call it a night? Everyone seems tired. Go home, get some rest and we'll regroup tomorrow. Morgan give Reid a call and let him know we're done for the night." The tone is commanding, but underneath the firm syllables is a softness. An endearing feeling almost.

The group all nods their head in agreement and they disperse into a world of darkness.


	6. So it Seems, Happiness is Not My Burden to Bear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long absence, life just got a little crazy. This will be a short chapter- but be ready for some more chapters in the near future. Enjoy :)

Reid stride is cautious but certain. Every stride takes him in a desired direction. The street lights cast the shadows away and Reid finds himself wishing for day time. Despite the aid from the lights all around, the darkness still seems to be suffocating him.

His mind wanders, and he can vividly see the pictures of his team members that had accompanied the letter. A clear threat. A threat he knew Don Carmen would effectively act upon. Don Carmen plays to win, life is a game and he is determined to be victorious. That is what makes him so dangerous.

Reid's resolve settles in his mind and every fiber of his being shifts to a more focused, logical stance. He will do whatever it takes. His family will not be put in danger- that is a promise.

A ringing resounds in the night air and Reid barely registers that it is his phone making the shrill sound. He fumbles a few moments and extracts the device from his right pocket.

"I am sorry." The words fall onto emptiness and Reid slowly takes his phone and lets it plummet to the ground below. He lifts his foot steadily and brings it down onto the still ringing phone, efficiently crushing it to pieces.

Almost an hour after destroying his phone he reaches his destination. A large house is before him, and the black gate will soon become his prison bars. Reid lets out a breath of air and confidently strides forward. As if on cue, the gate opens and Reid steps through the threshold.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After his call went to voicemail, Morgan's concern had rocketed. He had immediately informed the team and they had regrouped at the office despite the late hour.

"Maybe we should call Daniel and Mike?" JJ questions. The room falls silent at her soft tone. A few nod in agreement and Garcia goes to phone the two CIA operatives.

"Where would he go?" Morgan nearly shouts, his voice seemly broken. His hands are balled at his sides and his whole form is shaking unconsciously. He's angry, he's worried. He should have gone with Reid to get some air, he should have been with him. God help him if anything happens to that man.

"Morgan, get Garcia to track his phone." Hotch orders. 

Morgan's face falls slightly and he replies, "I already did, he must have turned it off or destroyed it. No signal" The last part is practically whispered.

The room falls into a heavy silence. Dim lights cascade into the office space. It's peaceful somehow; the calm before a storm.

"Daniel and Mike are on their way." Garcia chimes. Her voice seemingly breaks the silence and the occupants of the room seem to find their voices. It's noticeable that Garcia is close to tears and everyone hears her murmured plea, "Find my junior g-man."


	7. There's a Time to Be Great and a Time to Be Just a Man

Spencer Reid is just a man. Despite his intelligence, he is still merely a man. He is flawed, he is a creature of grey living in a society of black and white. This place had once been a home for him; and he is determined to make it his home again.

"Spencer" The tone is soft but authoritative. Spencer lifts his head and his vision finds Don Carmen. Don Carmen stands at the door frame leaning causally against its side. His hands are lazily in his suit pockets and his head is tilted ever so slightly to the right. At this moment, Reid sees the man he once knew. The man who had given him everything and taken everything just as swiftly.

"It's good for you to be back." Reid merely nods his head in acknowledgement and turns his attention back to the book in his lap. Don Carmen stifles an amused laugh and says, "Spencer, I am sorry- but I did what was necessary. I am a reasonable man, you of all people should know this."

Spencer lifts his head abruptly, fire burning in his eyes. "You strong armed me Carmen. You killed someone, you killed Tonio." The last word is a hushed whisper. Tears linger in his eyes. Barely contained emotions simmer beneath the surface

"He sacrificed for you Spencer, he knew the stakes. I am dying son- and I need an heir. We both know Anthony was not the leader you are." His tone is fierce, alight with burning sincerity and determination. Reid's only reply is to bow his head in resignation.

"Leave the BAU alone and you will have the leader you so sought after." Reid's tone is different somehow. It reeks of power and carries an aura of authority. His once clumsy legs gracefully disentangle themselves. He stands and his height keeps him level with Don Carmen.

"Learn your place and I shall learn mine." His tone is clipped. "Leave the BAU alone. It was the wrong move you made in killing Tonio. In taking so much heat. I will fix the mess you made if only to keep my team safe. You want a leader; you want the Spencer you know- you've got him. I will do my job, step up as a leader and do yours." Reid's tone is firm- leaving little room for argument.

Despite the rebuke directed towards him, Don Carmen's eyes are sparkling with pride. This is the man Don Carmen had risked everything for- this is the man who would be a great.

Don Carmen bows his head, "Of course," he gives a brief nod, and leaves.

It has been two days since Reid become the Don of the Italian mafia, he become a man of great power.

When he was younger, and had first met the Don, he had prayed for the day he could be leadership within the organization. Now, is different. He had left the family behind; he had started over. Reid's mind is a mess of past and present clasping together in an iron strong embrace. An embrace Reid has not anticipated.

Don carmen is right- with his death these people need a fit leader, and Spencer is that leader. His team- despite his love for them- doesn't necessarily need him.

Over the years Reid has learned his place. He knows where he needs to be. It was a hard decision to leave behind the BAU- though the threats had played a deciding role- but, most important decision are.

Reid finds that being back in the Don's home is strangely familiar. Despite not wanting it to, it creates a sense of ease that he had never thought he would receive from coming back. It almost feels like home. A home he lost long ago."

He loves this place. The whimsical windows, the bowing archways, the spacious interior. He is determined to make this work.

Reid takes a calming breath and in moment his breath has evened out. The man falls seamlessly into his seat and his long fingers grasp his book. The late hours of the night are quickly approaching and Reid knows he will need rest for tomorrow- but despite his better judgement, he stays awake most of the night.

Light pours through the window in the study, and Reid's form is slowly cast into light. The book he had been reading has fallen to the flour haphazardly and when he fully regains consciousness he diligently receives the book and places it in its rightful home. It's time. Today is judgement day.

Reid stretches his long limbs and a yawn escapes his mouth. He shakes his head slightly and with a brief smile leaves the room.

"Spencer, good to see you're awake," the Don's words are sincere. It almost physically hurts. Don Carmen's stance is firm, but delicate. Excess skin droops slightly off his thinning frame, and his graying hair shines in the morning light.

A wind whips through the room and Reid's brief reply is, "You were my everything. I would have done anything for you- but I am no Don, I am just Spencer Reid; and for some people that's enough." The words penetrate the room and it takes a moment for Carmen to realize what has been done.

His eyes widen in brief shock and before the emotion can take hold silent resignation replaces it. He had been fooled- so valid that only his Spencer could have fooled him so well. It is a certain trust that makes any man blind

There is a comfortable silence between the two occupants of the hallway before gun shots reverberate throughout the space. Shouts rebound off the marble and metal fixtures and the once quiet tone becomes chaotic and messy. Before Reid can move, a firm hand grasps his shoulders and pulls him into a strong embrace.

"I knew you wouldn't leave us kid." Morgan's voice is barely above a whisper. The hug is short lived and once they step apart Reid gives Morgan a sad smile. Morgan's head bows is slight confusion and before he can speak again Reid is booking it in the opposite direction.

Despite his better judgement, Morgan raises his gun and proceeds to case the building. Rows of people carrying guns trample on the Italian mafia's grounds. The grass is being shred to pieces under the heavy combat boots and the doors are being pulled from their hinges."

Everything is in shambles. People shouting is about as much as one can decipher. The words are nowhere near clear enough to be made into coherent sentences, all the differing conversations seem to meld into one.

"Has anyone seen Don Carmen?" The question breaks through the commotion, borne through the radio in Hotch's left hand. For a few minutes' static is his only reply, until he receives multiple negatives. "Find him." Is his short reply. His tone is harsh and steady. As a less profession thought he questions more quietly, "Anyone seen read?"

"He ran off before I could talk with him. He's still inside." Morgan's voice is subdued.

"He's okay right?" Garcia squeaks, voice shaking is ushered tears.

"Garcia, this is a secure line. One you should not be on." Hotch's tone softens ever so slightly before he continues, "Don't do it again, we will keep you updated." Garcia reads his message loud and clear.

"You could say I was never on this radio signal. Awaiting updates, over and out."

The rest of the raid goes down in slow motion. Everything seems to fall apart, and it happens so slowly that Hotch is able to watch every minute detail as it occurs in brutal clarity. His hurried pace had brought him to Morgan and they had both strode into the main office of Don Carmen.

Don is sitting in his chair leaning back at an angle hardly large enough to matter and a smirk plays at his lips.

"Looking for Spencer." It comes out as more of statement and his eyes shine with previously shed tears. At this moment, JJ walks into the room gun raised with a hidden strength of a mother.

JJ's eyes scan the room and her blue eyes land on her Spencer Reid. He's different. His stance shows a perception of cocky laziness that JJ is baffled to see coming from her Spence. His gaze is casted downward and his body is leaning casually against the Don's oak desk.

Morgan, Hotch, and JJ watch in horror as a gun is raised and a bullet flies through the air.

"Spence!


	8. A Man From the Past Becomes a Demon of the Present

The Earth seems to be spinning and a few faces stay blurred in his line of sight.

"M'sorry." Reid mumbles.

Morgan nods his head frantically and tears stream down his cheeks. Morgan can hear Hotch's voice in the background calling for backup and an ambulance, but at this moment it hardly seems to matter. Everything falls away and all he can see in the red pooling beneath his friend, his brother.

"Reid, stay with me man. Use that big brain of yours, tell me something- anything." His last words come out as a desperate plea.

In the background, Hotch aggressively places cuffs onto Daniel's slim wrist. He's screaming profanity and thrashing unceremoniously.

"Why'd you do it?" Hotch roars.

All attention turns to Reid when he stammers, "It had always been him..." He coughs wetly, but continues, "he knew we'd... um... blame the m--mafia. He set Don Carmen up." Reid's heaves leave him breathless and Morgan stand by frantically as he watches him struggle to regain his breath.

"I did it for you." Daniel screams. His arms are waving about him, his body shaking with rage. "I was giving you the reason you needed to go back. So we could go back." His tone becomes soft, eyes wet with unshed tears.

All eyes watch the cuffed man as he weakly mumbles, "Unlike you my only family was here, with Don Carmen, and I knew I would only be welcome if the prodigal son returned. I needed this Spencer."

As the words sink in, it seems as if some unknown fog has cleared; everything falls into place. Reid shakes his head too quickly causing a spasm of his lungs before he barely spits out, "It was you."

The few words are enough to send him into another fit of coughing and Morgan curses the EMTs for taking so long.

When the medical personnel do arrive, Reid is already unconscious. Morgan is barely containing his emotions and JJ is openly crying at this point. It has been a long couple of days. First Reid had gone missing- but the biggest blow was when they realized he had actually gone back."

It had been a low blow to say the least. Things had cleared up when Daniel and Mike had arrived and they had started working the case together. Daniel insisted that this would all blow over, but the BAU had other ideas. As Garcia had said, "They were going to bring their boy wonder home."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It is two days that the BAU members loiter in the hospital halls. Their eyes are fresh form tears and a red tints their eyes. The lack of sleep is hitting them hard.

The sounds of the empty hall wreaks havoc on them all. Rossi stands stiffly at near his chair almost forcing himself not to fidget, a false sense of calm gathered onto his features. Morgan has lost his energy and is currently moping in a far corner chair, sulking alone. JJ's mind is splitting at the seams- or so she thinks- as see lets tears fall without shame; Prentiss is trying her best to calm her blond friend, but to no avail. Hotch stands stiff, his face stoic.

Garcia, stands near Morgan, her stance hesitant, but determined. Dark streaks curve form her cheeks to her jawline and she hardly stifles her sniffles and sobs. After the first couple hours of waiting, everyone had become resigned to just letting Garcia be- she seemed to be in a particularly foul mood.

"Family of Spencer Reid?" The speaker is wearing a dark set of scrubs that effectively hides the red embedded into the material.

Hotch stands and addresses the doctor, "That's us. I am his medical proxy and his power of attorney should he need it." His tone in impartial, indifferent sounding.

"He's awake and coherent. I will allow you all to see him, but only for a small amount of time. Visiting hours are over, but I am willing to make this one exception. He's just down the hall, room 201."

JJ stands abruptly and along with the rest of the team staggers toward Reid's room. They are all secretly holding their breaths.

Upon entering the room everyone can hear JJ gasp at the sight of their genius.

His form is thin and fragile, his skin pale and ghastly. The sparkle in his brown eyes seems dim and cautious, his face a picture of exhaustion.

"My poor baby," Garcia coos. She sashays up to his bedside and gives him a gentle hug. A warm smile flittering across her mouth.

"Good to see you awake pretty boy." Morgan calls, a smile also gracing his features.

"Do you remember what happened?" Rossi questions out of mere curiosity and maybe something more.

When Reid nods his head briefly, Prentiss cannot help but ask, "How did you know it was Daniel setting up the Mafia?" Silence fills the poorly lit space. There is a brief moment of concentration before words once again fill the dim room.

"I knew the moment I had gotten the house. Don Carmen was willing to lead me on and let me believe it was him who brought me home- he was just thrilled I had returned. That's what Daniel did well. He knew Don Carmen would be willing to take the blame as long as it kept me in his household; but, I've known Carmen for a while and I knew something was off the first time I confronted him." Reid pauses slightly.

Everyone watches as their resident genius takes some soothing breaths and bows his head in what would seem like a silent prayer.

"He never denied being the reason I came home, but at the mention of Anthony I saw something in his eyes, it wasn't regret for having his son killed, it was anger."

Reid watches from his hospital bed as Rossi nods his head in acknowledgement and Prentiss gives a stiff nod.

"It's over now, He confessed the moment he saw he had accidentally shot you. Apparently he was hoping to make you Don sooner than scheduled as a way to make it easier for him to rejoin to family. You would have been his excuse for going back. Something about needing to be there for you, so you wouldn't have to do it all alone." Hotch recounts.

Reid merely nods his head in reply and his eyes begin to drop slightly. His lashes flutter with the growing sensation of sleep and with this, the team decides to leave.

"Get some sleep Spence, we'll be here when you wake up." JJ says in a hushed toned.

It's over. As Reid sits back onto his bed, a feeling of melancholy sweeps over him. He knows Don Carmen is a bad man, he knows he shouldn't love that place from the past; but at the end of the day he did, and he does. It was something that made him who he is now. 

The CIA had been what he had once lived for. The thrill of adventure, the stakes of death weighing down on him for every mission. He had lived for that; meeting Don Carmen had made him want to settle down somewhere. He wanted a family, not a rationalized team pretending to be a family. He had wanted more.

Reid owed his new life to that deceitful man, and despite his best rationale he can't change that.

The fallout of leaving the CIA had been messy. He had lied and claimed he no longer wished to be a part of a team whose lines could become so blurry. It was true, he no longer wished to be a part of the team- but the line wasn't blurry, if anything it had become more clear.

His CIA life had fallen apart, but Reid knows he is lucky to have fallen into the BAU.

Spencer Reid is not happier than anyone else, he's just better at hiding his demons.


End file.
